Working on Joy

Yesterday, I did something crazy and nearly totally unlike me.  It was a radical departure from the norm.  Almost (but not quite) scary.

I took the day off.

Well, mostly.  I took care of a couple of work & house things, but then had a conversation with FryDaddy who  came home a little early from school this week.  Some class cancellations that were announced in advance, a little working ahead, and a little planning made this possible for him.  For me, it was a regular work week, which (to be honest with you) stunk like very bad meat or very good cheese.  I do not intend to let this happen again - a subject that will be revisited in April, so stay tuned.

At any rate, I decided (and was supported in my decision by my unindicted co-conspirator) to just stop for the rest of the day.  We had already made some plans for the day and joyfully made some others to add to the existing ones.  The funny thing is, our plans didn't quite work out - the show we had arranged to see was just a hot plate of awful, dinner involved a bit of a wait for seats at the kitchen bar (we'd still be waiting if we had insisted on a table), and the movie was meh, despite the Oscar buzz.

So what?

We were in it together.  And, lo, it was good.

It'd be nice if we didn't have to plan to have fun and it'd be nice if I didn't feel like I was getting away with something by not being hooked into work so much of the time when I'm not in the office.  But life is.  I'm not sure what comes after the verb there, but yesterday was a mess o' fun and I'm convinced that's not a bad thing. Yeah, it'd be nice if I didn't have to work on joy, but it'd be much worse if I thought that because I do have to work on it, that I just shouldn't bother.

Joseph Campbell had it mostly right - following your bliss is a good and noble thing, but first you have to take the time to look for it.  And that's not usually done hunched over a computer keyboard checking course assignments.  Ibsen's Nora was right - while there are duties and responsibilities that we have toward others, there are also duties and responsibilities to oneself and those have to be answered to as well.

Now go play!

Coming Back from Crazy

I have not withdrawn into despair, 

I did not go mad in gathering honey

I did not go mad

I did not go mad

I did not go mad.

                                               -- Hoda Al-Namani

I haven't written in longer than normal.  That's not the pattern here at the Nest and I hope it doesn't become the pattern.  Generally, I post here weekly, but the last two weeks have been unusual-to-bizarre.  I don't want to go into detail on that, so let's just leave it at this.  

I've been crazy.

Not dangerous, "homicidal maniac" crazy, but not the whimsical, "oh, let's splash barefoot in the fountain" sort either.  I was beyond the limits of merely stressed out and lurching seriously toward Froot Loop territory.  You know that land - it's where nothing works quite right and you can't see any way through the stone wall in your path other than to batter your head bloody against it.  (Gentle hint - see if you can go up and over it, or consider digging.  Or - here's an idea! - look for a door.)  At any rate, it wasn't pretty and I'm glad it's (apparently) over.  

I've been a Froot Loop before.  There are just some things in life that I seem flat-out destined to have to learn over and over.  I include those lessons here so that, hopefully, some kind of good can come from my trip to the borders of Crack-Up Land.

• People have free will and, as such, will not do what you want them to do if it conflicts with what they want to do.  
• When technology doesn't work, try it a second time.  Then read the directions and try a third time.  But at that point, if it doesn't work, call a professional and walk away from it!!
• It's okay to not know everything about anything, much less everything about everything.
• Not every obstacle in your path was put there by the Universe specifically to vex you.
• Try to be patient and that includes treating yourself with compassion.
• To wit, healthy eating and exercise habits are good, but when you feel like the only activity you're up for is to curl up in your rattiest pajamas and cry soundlessly, get ice cream.  Stat.
• Music is a balm to the ruffled soul and if other people don't share your tastes, shut the door and crank it up.  Personally, I find Earth, Wind & Fire to be useful in these times, but if Zamfir, Master of the Pan Flute is your thing, peace be upon you.
• It's not as bad as it seems.  And you really don't have to take it so seriously.
• No matter how frustrated and angry you become when the Universe persists in acting with total indifference to your whims, never act in such a way as to scare small children or animals.  They don't get that you're not actually nuts.
• No matter what it is, be it tech that won't work or the Twilight craze, this too shall pass.

True, I did not go mad.  But if I'd remembered these things, I probably could have gotten saner earlier and I know I'd have been considerably easier to live with.

Mockingbird and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

(with apologies to Alexander)

It doesn't happen often, thank goodness.  But Friday was one of those fortunately-rare-but-still-quite-nasty Very Bad Days.

It's hard to explain, but since we all go through these sometimes, I probably don't have to explain it much.  It was a Very Bad Day.  It's not that anything horrible actually happened - I didn't have an accident with the car, I didn't get some devastating diagnosis, and I didn't end the day with fewer fingers than I started it with - but it was a Very Bad Day nevertheless.  See, it doesn't take a tragedy to drive me off into the Forest of Crazy; in fact, I'm one of those who totally gets the Dorothy Parker quip that it's not the tragedies that kill us; it's the messes.

And what a mess.

All I wanted to do (the lament of the unsuccessful) was take this Powerpoint I'd made for my upcoming online class - and made with love and care, mind you - put some narration over the top of it and then gently drop my baby into the online platform we use for such classes so my tender birdling students could be fed from its wisdom.  Easy, right?  A couple of clicks of a mouse, right?

Ha, she said bitterly.

I couldn't figure it out.  Like, at all.  I had the same chance of coming through this experience unscathed as (to borrow from the magnificent Douglas Adams) a whelk in a supernova.  I couldn't get the microphone hooked up properly.  I couldn't figure out how to start recording.  I couldn't figure out how to save the recording.  I couldn't figure out the search terms that would help me figure out the answers.  I yelled at the computer.  I yelled at the microphone.  I yelled at Bill Gates and, just to be thorough, I roundly cursed Steve Jobs.

I am deeply ashamed to say I lost my temper and yelled at the dog.

Literally hours of that madness, and I was still not one whit closer to figuring out the answer than I am today at forming the Grand Unified Theory of Everything.

And yet.

I was reminded of how lucky I am.  I have friends who listened to my wild-eyed rantings and told me it would be okay.  Who made me feel better that I was even trying to figure out tech stuff (probably needless to say at this point, but it's NOT my strong suit.  Hell, it's barely a card in my deck).  I have friends who took one look at me and suggested that I just stop for a while.  (Great wisdom is in these words:  "When nothing you're doing works, do nothing.")  I eventually figured it out - it may not be the quickest, more elegant solution, but duct tape can hold any number of things together as well as a weld.  And tomorrow, one of my lovely and learned friends has agreed to meet with me and take a look at the patch-job I've come up with.  She probably won't even laugh - she's that good.

The lesson in here?  Sometimes the day just doesn't bend your way.  When that happens, it's okay to quit.  Walk away - the problem will still be there once you cool down (and if it isn't, so much the better) and you won't seem like such a raving crazy person.  I didn't learn that and I had some apologies to make later.  I also threw my good eating habits to the wind, because it seemed like cream sauce and cupcakes were a better choice than committing a string of Class A felonies.  (Which is true, but it's far better to not get in that place to begin with.)  Scarlett O'Hara was right - tomorrow is another day and you can always take another run at it then.  Go a little easy on yourself.

Oh, and the dog forgave me.  I swear, there are days when I don't deserve that critter.

Not All Hours Are Billable

Back when I worked as a litigation lawyer, keeping up with my "billable hours" was a big part of  my everyday life.  It's not exactly a natural part of your life, but it's hammered into you that it's going to be a very important part of your bank-wall-grey-suited life.  Think about it.  Every time you make a phone call, even if you only leave a message, you must remember to enter the client's name and code and assign a time value to the call, usually one-tenth of an hour for a phone message.  And you do that for every single task you perform that day.  Every letter, every snippet of research, every paragraph drafted, every phone call made, every e-mail read, much less returned - all of these must be assigned to a client and billed for.

Crazy making.  But that's how lawyers bill.  (By the way, flat fees are the way to go.  That way, you only pay once and you know exactly how much it is.  Just sayin'.)

The problem is that once you get that mindset in your head, it's darned hard to get it out.  And not all hours are (or should be) billable.

It's hard for me.  I have a job that I really, really enjoy, but I've learned - slowly and painfully - that I'm better at it when I build in breaks and time off from it.  I'm good with deadlines, but my brain also needs time to let ideas percolate.  The trick is building in "percolation time."  My regular course load requires me to teach five classes per semester, plus two in the summer.  That's five classes worth of papers, tests, speech presentations, journals, outlines, and various smaller assignments to collect, comment on, and grade.  That's five classes worth of student e-mails, excuses for missed classes, student appointments, and assorted student problems, on top of committee assignments, book orders, faculty and divisional meetings, reports, professional development, portfolio composition, and adjunct wrangling to handle - all without the prospect of tenure.  It's a loaded plate and, for the most part, I love it.  Seriously - I do.  Furthermore, I think I'm pretty good at it.

Education isn't widget-building, no matter what the business folks say.  You can't run a school like a business; not entirely.  This is because you're dealing with people rather than interchangeable parts.  I need to be chipper and upbeat and encouraging with everyone who crosses my threshold and that's not easy.  And that's a task that takes way more than a single approach.

That's why you'll see bottles of soap bubbles when you visit my office.  There are also cartoons on the wall and sock puppets in a basket.  There's a plastic raygun that makes a loud "whizz, whizz, whizz" noise when you pull the trigger and also a miniature Zen water fountain for quiet.  In the window are plants that need sunshine and water to remind me that we all need those things.  There's a copy of Dr. Seuss' Oh, The Places You'll Go and sometimes you'll find me reading that.  Sometimes you'll find me reading a copy of a journal that has an article describing an idea I want to try out.  And sometimes you'll see a sign that says, "On walking track" stuck on my door - generally speaking, movement clears my head better than just sitting.

Sometimes, you need to be hunched over a keyboard, researching or drafting or grading or planning.  But sometimes you need to be elsewhere, dreaming or thinking or holding an idea up to the light to look at it from a different perspective.  And all those times are important.

Even if they're not all billable.

New Year!

It's a new year, which means - well, all sorts of things.  FryDaddy has returned for his last semester of undergraduate schoolin', leaving the house a bit on the lonely side.  We took down Christmas before he left, but the bits and pieces of the holiday are strewn from one end of the guest room/study to the other.  I'll get it packed over the next few days and when FryDaddy comes home for the weekend, we'll transfer it to the attic and hunker down for the holiday-less winter.  (That's why I left the colored lights on the porch roof - maybe they're tacky, but they certainly seem cheerful on a grey January evening!)

My classes for the spring semester start Tuesday and, while I"m basically prepared, there are always things to do and tasks to complete.  My resolution for this year is to try harder to realize that we're all doing the best we can and - face it - most of us have days where we're just trying to get by on half throttle.  I'm teaching my introduction to film class in an online format this go-round and I don't want to just have blocks and blocks of text, so I'm working to master a variety of tech tools that I've used in the past, but never become especially proficient with.  I'm trying to enjoy the journey.

And what a journey this year is shaping up to be!  FryDaddy and I signed our first joint book contract right around the New Year - we're under contract with ECW Press out of Toronto, Canada to produce Wanna Cook?  The Unofficial Guide to Breaking Bad and we couldn't be more delighted!  We're working hard to both complete the draft on time - it's an episode guide, but goes WAY beyond mere recaps - and to spread the word about the project.  You'll find us blogging about the project and Breaking Bad in general on our blogs -  FryDaddy 's is here and I have a "work and publication" blog that you can access here; please follow us! - as well as on sites such as the network site and Television Without Pity.  You can also keep us with us in short bursts on Twitter - use #wannacook and you'll find us.

All this and a full course load, writing a paper for Slayage 5 in July, and the commuter marriage.  My cup truly runneth over!  If only I can steer clear of that one valley . . .

Onward into 2012!

The Christmas Letter I Meant to Send

Every year, it seems like the holidays almost sneak up on me.  That doesn't make any logical sense, since I know full well that December 25th is Christmas and it's not a moveable feast.  Still - this year, there were a few too many irons in the fire and I never got cards sent out.  That's a shame, since I like Christmas cards (or "holiday greetings," if you prefer; whatever hangs your holly) a lot.  I actually like sitting down with a stack of cards, an address book, and festive stamps.  Alas, this year, it simply was not to be.  At first, I told myself that I'd get them out as New Year's cards, or maybe Epiphany - nope, that's not going to happen either.

And since one of my pseudo-resolutions is to decreased the amount of beating myself up for not being a constantly efficient juggler of the fiery swords of home/work/writing/personal lives, I'm letting it go.  I'm sorry for that, but I'm also accepting of it.

But if I had written a Christmas letter, it might have gone something like this:

Dear Family and Friends:

It's been an eventful year here in the Nest.  FryDaddy and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary and he's now a semester away from being a bachelor - at least on paper!  (And while there may certainly be a graduation party in May, it will in no way be a "bachelor party."  I've made my voice heard on this one!)  So let's look back on 2011:

January - A freak snow and ice storms caused the semester to get off to a late start.  I resolved to ask myself often during this year, "How can I enjoy this more?"  Not bad as resolutions go, and it's one I'm going to continue to work on in the coming year.  I started teaching an introduction to film course that focused on science fiction and enjoyed it quite a bit.   FryDaddy and I celebrated our joint birthday (weird, I know) and kept slogging through the long-distance marriage trial as he continued with his studies at UNC-Greensboro.
March - FryDaddy and I spent spring break in the exotic locale of the hospital.  All is well, and he's now an improved cyborg.  No mutant powers seem to have manifested.
April - We both traveled to San Antonio, Texas to present original work at the national Popular Culture/American Culture Association conference.  We always enjoy the PCA conferences and this one involved Tex-Mex food and the Alamo.  A beautiful, hospitable city that we hope to visit again.
May - For our first anniversary, we took a sightseeing trip up to Washington, DC.  While we certainly didn't see everything, we had a blast and it was fun to get reacquainted after a semester of (mostly) being separated.  We continued the separation with summer school sessions, though.  Eyes on the prize, people!
June - I hosted what I hope becomes an annual event - a "girls only" party involving big hats and the Belmont horse race.  We also added a small grey kitten to our household in June.  We were a little concerned about what Spooky (60 plus pound shepherd mix) would think, but no worries.  The two are best friends and often curl up together to sleep.  That's cute - seeing Spooky attempting to groom a kitten, though - that's priceless!
July - With FryDaddy home for the last part of the summer, we spent a few days finally re-arranging the kitchen to suit a 6'4" cook.  It's amazing how much room a pot rack can buy you!
August - It was my turn to be in the hospital bed as I had sinus and throat surgery.  Minor in the big scheme of things, but uncomfortable and I'm glad it's in the rear view mirror of the year.  Much improvement, though, so yes, it was worth it!
October - With the fall semester in full swing, we took off to spend fall break (where else?) at a conference.  The regional PCA was held in New Orleans and we had  bon temps galore, mon amis!  I'd go back again in a heartbeat!  Fantastic people, warm reception for the work we'd been doing and did I mention the food?  In October, Dad was also inducted into the Davidson County Sports Hall of Fame - his college baseball team [he played catcher] won the college World Series in 1955.

Throughout the year, we were involved in the Great Buffy Rewatch of 2011, which was run by a Canadian we met through (where else?) conferences.  Both of us had individual work published as part of this, as well as working together on a few pieces.

In no way does this cover everything that happened this year, but it's a good sampling.  2011 was actually pretty good to us and we're hoping the Mayans were wrong about 2012!

Love to all in the coming year!

Mockingbird and FryDaddy

Holly-Trimmed Musings

Let the holidays commence!  The final papers are commented upon and graded.  Final projects have been graded and returned.  The last communication journals have been (you guessed it) graded and all numbers have been crunched.  For good or ill, the semester is done.

The Christmas holiday, however, is not.

Here at the Nest, holiday preparations are somewhat incomplete.  We have a tree, which has been strung with lights.  We held off on ornaments to give the kitten (it's her first Christmas, you see) a chance to get used to the outside being inside.  It seems that she's not much of a climber (quite interested in the wrapping paper under the tree, though), so we hope to hang at least some ornaments.

Other decorations - well, I hope to at least get the mantel decked.  The halls very well may be on their own this year.  There are a few lights strung around the porch roof, a Christmas flag flutters in the yard, and most windows are adorned with an electric candle, thanks to an elaborate system of drop cords.  It's not Martha Stewart, but it surely is not John Prine, either.

I was getting in quite a snit about this - I felt like a slacker.  I mean, it's the evening of the 20th and my house is decorated in a style which can kindly be called "Early Box."  I have family who begins baking for Christmas a month early and I have friends who go all out (and I mean "all out" in the Southern use of the term, which basically means that everything that doesn't move is spray-painted gold and tastefully gathered and grouped) and have their houses "holidayed" by Dec. 1.

You know what?

I finally figured out that it doesn't matter.  My house will never cause an editor of House Beautiful to say, "By George, I must share this sight with the general public!"    Doesn't matter.  The bank account is a bit thin and the credit card balances seem higher than they should.  Doesn't matter.  The Nest is warm and cozy, populated by a friendly-to-the-point-of-goofy white mutt and a not-so-little-anymore grey kitten who can wipe out a day of grumpiness by curling up on my lap for ten minutes.  FryDaddy and I are together, with clean bills of health.  Our problems are the relatively small problems of people living in a stable, industrialized society - too much food, too many friends who haven't been sent cards, too many choices of what to watch and where to go.

Think about it - what lovely problems to have.

The angels will come to proclaim the Good News.  It's up to me to stop whirling long enough to listen.

Come on in, friends.